***Author's notes: I dont own Robotech, I just write about it! ^_^ Nuff said!***
Prologue
June 16, 2006 Macross Island
A wing of specialized, 24F Airplanes of the Robotech Defense Forces were patrolling the outskirts of Macross Island. The wingman of the patrol, Alex Lenardais, took a few moments to admire the scenery.
Macross Island was a small spot of greenery in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Most of it was covered by Macross City, a city of about fifty thousand people, all either engineers, workers or military personnel. Many buildings, parks, beaches and even complex roads had been built to accommodate the ever-growing population of the island. The city was a great sight, by itself. But nothing compared to the massive, unfinished ship now officially called the Super-Dimensional Fortress One or simply SDF-1.
Over a kilometer in length, the great behemoth loomed over the tallest buildings of Macross City. Although its state was far from complete, already many features of the ship were clearly defined. The bridge and control systems were situated on the top, and were nearly finished. The reactors were also in a near-prepared state. Alex could remember the awe he had felt when he had been stationed here, two years before, as part of the new Robotech garrison. It had not lessened. The ships used by the Robotech Defense Forces were about three dozen Lancer-Class Space Destroyers. These ships, three hundred meters long, armed with rail guns and heavy lasers, were well-damned impressive in themselves, yet they were nothing at all, Lenardais was quite certain, as the SDF-1 would be. It would be a fine flagship for the United Earth, he was sure. And there were other rumors that excited him. Rumors of air-space fighters able to transform into forty-feet tall robots. What was the name? Ah yes, Veritech. Whoa. He hoped to be piloting one of these fighters one day. In fact, he hoped to be part of the crew of the SDF-1.
"Getting sluggish there, Al old buddy." the voice of his teammate chided over the comline, startling him away from his thoughts and plunging him directly into the brunt of very realistic patrol duty. "Hope you're not gonna get asleep in your seat." the voice mocked good-naturedly.
"I passed the need to sleep at two o' clock when I was four, Roy!" Alex snapped, grinning nonetheless.
"Really? ! That late?!?" Roy returned in mock dismay.
"Roy, you realize this is the kind of conversation that usually ends in a gunshot."
"Do I know it. But lets wait until our patrol is over. Then we'll borrow two old-style guns and walk twenty steps and shoot. As good as we are, we'll probably both die."
Alex laughed out loud at the false seriousness in his wing commander's voice. Roy Fokker, although one of the finest pilots Alex had ever seen in the RDF, could not seem to prevent himself from making humorous comments at the strangest of times. The two were good friends, had been since the first meeting of the RDF garrison in Macross City in 2004. The two had been seated next to each other, and had gotten involved in a far-ranging discussion about airplanes, completely forgetting the meeting they were seated in. The discussion became more and more vocal, the two pilots caught in a difference of opinion about the usefulness of F-18s in the Gulf War. Finally, the commander of the garrison, thoroughly infuriated at the insubordination, had them report to the brig. They passed most of the night discussing and arguing, each finding things he really liked in the attitude of the other. They had been friends from that point on, rivals in just about everything. Close match-ups too. Except for two things. Alex was a true chef when it came to cooking, whereas Roy found the concept of making pies or making most of anything edible to be beyond him, while Roy was a ladies' man, whereas Alex tended to flee when he saw women coming too near his person. So Alex took to cooking in the quarters both men shared, while Roy coached Alex to rid him of his perpetual shyness. He was only marginally successful. Alex ceased to flee at the mere sight of approaching women, but he could not talk to any of them pleasantly, relaxingly. It was either in a show of military frigidness (with commanding officers) or a quaking, stuttering conversation (with just about every other female).
It was a strange thing, for Alex was anything but a coward or a softy. Roy and him had taken the most dangerous assignments the base had to give repeatedly and had returned with few scratches and a mission completed over expectations every time. Those missions had tempered them, had sharpened their already great piloting skills, and had promoted them to the rank of 1st lieutenant by the first month of 2006. Alex simply was afraid of women. It was his fear, and even Roy's pushing could not yet dissipate it.
"I was thinking about how great it'll be if we get to be on the SDF-1 when it launches." Alex said quietly.
"When we get to be on it, my friend. When. Remember..." replied Roy.
"...pessimism is for losers, not aces." finished Alex. It had become their personal phrase, wich they used when one of them was feeling down. "Hey, Roy, I'm thinking about making tortelinis for supper. You game?"
"You bet, buddy!" enthused a very glad Roy. He had a taste for anything italian.
"I thought you'd be." A blip on his radar made him revert to his most serious demeanor.
"Roy, getting something on radar. Five boogies, no registration codes, no United Earth beacons. Definitely not ours, at five o'clock."
"I see them. Macross Control, this is lieutenant Fokker patrolling sector 44. Have unindentified planes on radar. Presume them to be Anti-Unification. Awaiting your orders. Over." said Fokker calmly. The answer only took a few moments to arrive.
"Message received, lieutenant. Engage and hold off hostiles. We are sending you reinforcements. Over." came a controller's voice.
"Acknowledged, Control. Over and out." Fokker shut off the base comlink and activated plane-to-plane radio."Well, Al, ready to kick ass?"
"You don't need to ask! Lead on!" was the immediate answer.
Both plane kicked thier afterburners and flew towards the hostile planes. As they approached, it was clear that they had not come here on a simple, foolish purpose. Closer inspection showed blades painted on the sides of the plane.
Fokker recognized this. "Damn! The Blade Conclave is stirring up again!"
The Anti-Unification League was not really an organization, but rather an agglomeration of small dissident countries, terrorist groups and anarchists who happened to have the same goal: that Earth not be united. They had tried numerous times to destroy the unity and purpose shared by those countries part of the United Earth. The Global Civil War was thus skirmishes after skirmishes. Fortunately, the League was not a cooperative group, and it did not have the ressources and the manpower the United Earth possessed. Still, there were groups within the Anti-Unification League that inspired fear in any who served within the various branches of the United Earth Defense Forces.
The Blade Conclave was one of those groups. Of all terrorist factions, the Conclave was one of the most ressourceful and the most ruthless. Their methods were cold and calculated. Their creed was simple: the mission must be completed. They were ready to go at any lenghts to do so. They had come to Macross Islands three times before, and each time there had been grave trouble. One knowing this could understand why Roy Fokker and Alex Lenardais were coming in wary and more than slightly anxious.
Surprising to them both was that not one plane turned around to engage them. It was a complete disregard of tactics, looking much like a kamikaze run. It did not alleviate the concern the pursuing pilots were feeling. In fact, it deepened it by quite a few notches.
"What the fuck are they doing? They're totally ignoring us!" cried an exasperated Alex.
"They seem to be looking for something." mused Roy. "Al, you know the layout better than me. What's in this sector they could want to destroy so badly?"
Alex thought about this hard, as the more powerful engines of the 24Fs closed the distance - too slowly - with the terrorists. Sector 44 was an industrial sector. Outlying houses and residential buildings surrounded different factories, rangings from fuel production to Destroid manufacture. Destroying these would be a blow to the SDF-1 Project, but not a terrible one. There must be something there. Wait. There is a fuel factory, an experimental one, with, as its power source...
"A Reflex reactor matrix!" Alex shouted the thought outloud.
"What about it?" asked an anxious Roy.
"There is a factory there which is powered by reflex technology! If they blow it up..."
"They'll end up destroying it, and half of Macross City with it." Fokker finished grimly. Alex could almost hear the wheels turning rapidly inside his friends head. He finally spoke again.
"All right. Lets switch to turbo mode. That way we'll catch them before they reach striking distance." It was a sound plan, but it had one problem. The turbo mode added speed but also drained power from the weapon systems, effectively bringing offensive capabilities to their bare minimum. It was not a pleasant prospect, this five-to-two fight with minimal weapons, and Alex said so.
"I know! At least we can keep up the fight until the damn reinforcements get here." Roy sighed on the comlink. "Anyway we don't have a choice, now, do we?" Without waiting for an answer, Fokker switched to turbo mode and surged ahead, ever faster. Three seconds later, his plane was joined by Alex's. For Roy Fokker was right: there was no choice in this. Not to pilots of the Robotech Defense Forces.
They charged ahead, their speed reaching a level as yet unheard of in any other airplane of the time. That got a reaction from the pilots of the enemy planes. But not a fighting reaction. Instead, they went full thrust towards the factory. I was right, thought Alex, that is their target.
Even with the enemy flooring- if one could say that- the gas pedal with abandon, the two 24Fs rapidly gained on them, finally coming within striking distance of the hostile crafts. Roy was the first to strike, launching a volley of homing missiles to the nearest plane. The pilot of that plane tried to turn and dodge the attack, but it was already too late for him. he took the full blast, disintegrating into a great ball of incandescence. Three planes changed direction to engage them at this. It was obvious they were protecting the lead plane, so it could make its run. If they took the time to tangle with those three, half of Macross City would be blown all the way to tomorrow.
Taking about thirty thousand or so people with it in the deal. It could not be allowed to happen, never!
"Al, go stop the lead hostile! I'll deal with these three jerks!" shouted Roy over the com, obviously having reached the same conclusion. Alex hesitated briefly, torn between the concern he had for his friend and his inescaple duty. It was a hard decision, that needed an harder push to prompt
It was Roy, of course, who did the pushing. "GO! I'll be fine! GO, DAMNIT!!!!" he shouted. Alex wasn't sure Roy would be fine in a three-to-one fight, but he decided that his friend would find some way to make it. Decision made, he switched back to turbo mode and dove between two enemy planes with a show of ability few pilots could duplicate.
The lead hostile had made good time with Alex's hesitation. He had actually reached striking distance. Alex knew with a sinking heart that he would most probably be unable to stop the factory's destruction. Behind him, he heard a great explosion and knew one of the planes had bought it. He fervently hoped it wasn't Roy. Then there was no time to think anymore, as he reached striking distance with the enemy craft.
He didn't dare use any missiles at the extreme range he was, and the 12G Autocannon lacked this ranging power. This left the lasers, which could only be aimed manually. The pilot in front of him seem to know this, as his flight was erratic, designed to keep him off-balance, unable to aim. But there was no choice, he powered the laser imbbeded in the bodice of his plane. A manuel targeting information glowed to existence on the on-board computer screen.
Manual Laser ACTIVE
Power Cells: 56%
Aim percentage: 38%
Great, he had only one good shot, and only a one -on- three chance to hit the bastard. He tried to get closer, see if he could get a larger target. Then the enemy plane launched his first two missiles, right onto the factory. Alex screamed in rage, both at himself for his lack of decisivness and at the enemy for its actions. Using all of his aiming skills, he pressed the manual firing button. The airplane shuddered as a beam of light shot toward the enemy plane.
Was it skill or luck? Alex never could tell for certain. To him, it was probably more the latter than the former. The laser beam scorched the left turbine of the enemy airplane, causing it to explode. To Alex's surprise, the rest of the craft did not go up with it, but spiralled out of control, and crashed unto the sea, just fifty yards off Macross City's port. After a quick glance, Alex forgot about it altogether. He scanned the factory reactor. What the computer told him was as far from his liking as he could make it.
Reactor type 12 G.U.N.F
Power Type: Reflex Reactor
Status: Damaged
Extent of Damage: 43%
Meltdown possibility: 100%
Time remaining: 12 seconds
Retreat Advisable
The asshole had only launched two missiles, but he had made them count. Damn him to hell! The godbedamned factory was going to blow up, taking thousands of people with it! Behind him, the noise died down. The battle over there was over, for the little it meant right now.
Time remaining: 10 seconds
Think damnit! I can't let this happen! Gotta find a way to stop this nightmare. Gotta find it. GOTTA FIND IT! These thoughts whirled throught Lenardais's mind, useless, intangible, riveting him to place. There was no WAY he could stop the explosion, he knew. Then he heard Roy Fokker's voice over the com.
"What are you freakin' doing?!? Get out of there! Its going to go sky high!"
Time remaining: 8 seconds
Sky High. Sky High. SKY HIGH??? Thats IT!!!! He couldn't stop it, that was an established fact. But, by launching all of his missiles in a circling pattern, he could force the explosion upward, so that the residences wouldn't be touched. He had to fire it from his position, right on top of the factory, the nose down. The fact that he would die was buried under the pressure he suffered as he entered the commands.
Time remaining: 3 seconds
It was ready. Alex said his good-byes to the world at large. On the com, Roy shouted something, but by that time, Alex had retreated to the resigned peace of those who are dead, who know it and have accepted it. He fired.
Time remaining: 1 second
The missiles flew in a wide circle, exploding upon impact just as the reactor itself exploded. The force of the circling fireball worked the miracle, and the energy was directed upward. Alex could only wonder at the pure witheness that flooded his vision, knowing that this was what it was to "go out with a Bang!". He braced himself....
Only the whiteness cleared. Blinking, disbelieving the obvious fact that he had survived, the pilot righted his craft and looked around.
And found himself, quite simply, into the middle of a warzone.
A warzone, he realized in horror, that was the shattered remains of Macross City
***********************************************************************
Prologue
June 16, 2006 Macross Island
A wing of specialized, 24F Airplanes of the Robotech Defense Forces were patrolling the outskirts of Macross Island. The wingman of the patrol, Alex Lenardais, took a few moments to admire the scenery.
Macross Island was a small spot of greenery in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Most of it was covered by Macross City, a city of about fifty thousand people, all either engineers, workers or military personnel. Many buildings, parks, beaches and even complex roads had been built to accommodate the ever-growing population of the island. The city was a great sight, by itself. But nothing compared to the massive, unfinished ship now officially called the Super-Dimensional Fortress One or simply SDF-1.
Over a kilometer in length, the great behemoth loomed over the tallest buildings of Macross City. Although its state was far from complete, already many features of the ship were clearly defined. The bridge and control systems were situated on the top, and were nearly finished. The reactors were also in a near-prepared state. Alex could remember the awe he had felt when he had been stationed here, two years before, as part of the new Robotech garrison. It had not lessened. The ships used by the Robotech Defense Forces were about three dozen Lancer-Class Space Destroyers. These ships, three hundred meters long, armed with rail guns and heavy lasers, were well-damned impressive in themselves, yet they were nothing at all, Lenardais was quite certain, as the SDF-1 would be. It would be a fine flagship for the United Earth, he was sure. And there were other rumors that excited him. Rumors of air-space fighters able to transform into forty-feet tall robots. What was the name? Ah yes, Veritech. Whoa. He hoped to be piloting one of these fighters one day. In fact, he hoped to be part of the crew of the SDF-1.
"Getting sluggish there, Al old buddy." the voice of his teammate chided over the comline, startling him away from his thoughts and plunging him directly into the brunt of very realistic patrol duty. "Hope you're not gonna get asleep in your seat." the voice mocked good-naturedly.
"I passed the need to sleep at two o' clock when I was four, Roy!" Alex snapped, grinning nonetheless.
"Really? ! That late?!?" Roy returned in mock dismay.
"Roy, you realize this is the kind of conversation that usually ends in a gunshot."
"Do I know it. But lets wait until our patrol is over. Then we'll borrow two old-style guns and walk twenty steps and shoot. As good as we are, we'll probably both die."
Alex laughed out loud at the false seriousness in his wing commander's voice. Roy Fokker, although one of the finest pilots Alex had ever seen in the RDF, could not seem to prevent himself from making humorous comments at the strangest of times. The two were good friends, had been since the first meeting of the RDF garrison in Macross City in 2004. The two had been seated next to each other, and had gotten involved in a far-ranging discussion about airplanes, completely forgetting the meeting they were seated in. The discussion became more and more vocal, the two pilots caught in a difference of opinion about the usefulness of F-18s in the Gulf War. Finally, the commander of the garrison, thoroughly infuriated at the insubordination, had them report to the brig. They passed most of the night discussing and arguing, each finding things he really liked in the attitude of the other. They had been friends from that point on, rivals in just about everything. Close match-ups too. Except for two things. Alex was a true chef when it came to cooking, whereas Roy found the concept of making pies or making most of anything edible to be beyond him, while Roy was a ladies' man, whereas Alex tended to flee when he saw women coming too near his person. So Alex took to cooking in the quarters both men shared, while Roy coached Alex to rid him of his perpetual shyness. He was only marginally successful. Alex ceased to flee at the mere sight of approaching women, but he could not talk to any of them pleasantly, relaxingly. It was either in a show of military frigidness (with commanding officers) or a quaking, stuttering conversation (with just about every other female).
It was a strange thing, for Alex was anything but a coward or a softy. Roy and him had taken the most dangerous assignments the base had to give repeatedly and had returned with few scratches and a mission completed over expectations every time. Those missions had tempered them, had sharpened their already great piloting skills, and had promoted them to the rank of 1st lieutenant by the first month of 2006. Alex simply was afraid of women. It was his fear, and even Roy's pushing could not yet dissipate it.
"I was thinking about how great it'll be if we get to be on the SDF-1 when it launches." Alex said quietly.
"When we get to be on it, my friend. When. Remember..." replied Roy.
"...pessimism is for losers, not aces." finished Alex. It had become their personal phrase, wich they used when one of them was feeling down. "Hey, Roy, I'm thinking about making tortelinis for supper. You game?"
"You bet, buddy!" enthused a very glad Roy. He had a taste for anything italian.
"I thought you'd be." A blip on his radar made him revert to his most serious demeanor.
"Roy, getting something on radar. Five boogies, no registration codes, no United Earth beacons. Definitely not ours, at five o'clock."
"I see them. Macross Control, this is lieutenant Fokker patrolling sector 44. Have unindentified planes on radar. Presume them to be Anti-Unification. Awaiting your orders. Over." said Fokker calmly. The answer only took a few moments to arrive.
"Message received, lieutenant. Engage and hold off hostiles. We are sending you reinforcements. Over." came a controller's voice.
"Acknowledged, Control. Over and out." Fokker shut off the base comlink and activated plane-to-plane radio."Well, Al, ready to kick ass?"
"You don't need to ask! Lead on!" was the immediate answer.
Both plane kicked thier afterburners and flew towards the hostile planes. As they approached, it was clear that they had not come here on a simple, foolish purpose. Closer inspection showed blades painted on the sides of the plane.
Fokker recognized this. "Damn! The Blade Conclave is stirring up again!"
The Anti-Unification League was not really an organization, but rather an agglomeration of small dissident countries, terrorist groups and anarchists who happened to have the same goal: that Earth not be united. They had tried numerous times to destroy the unity and purpose shared by those countries part of the United Earth. The Global Civil War was thus skirmishes after skirmishes. Fortunately, the League was not a cooperative group, and it did not have the ressources and the manpower the United Earth possessed. Still, there were groups within the Anti-Unification League that inspired fear in any who served within the various branches of the United Earth Defense Forces.
The Blade Conclave was one of those groups. Of all terrorist factions, the Conclave was one of the most ressourceful and the most ruthless. Their methods were cold and calculated. Their creed was simple: the mission must be completed. They were ready to go at any lenghts to do so. They had come to Macross Islands three times before, and each time there had been grave trouble. One knowing this could understand why Roy Fokker and Alex Lenardais were coming in wary and more than slightly anxious.
Surprising to them both was that not one plane turned around to engage them. It was a complete disregard of tactics, looking much like a kamikaze run. It did not alleviate the concern the pursuing pilots were feeling. In fact, it deepened it by quite a few notches.
"What the fuck are they doing? They're totally ignoring us!" cried an exasperated Alex.
"They seem to be looking for something." mused Roy. "Al, you know the layout better than me. What's in this sector they could want to destroy so badly?"
Alex thought about this hard, as the more powerful engines of the 24Fs closed the distance - too slowly - with the terrorists. Sector 44 was an industrial sector. Outlying houses and residential buildings surrounded different factories, rangings from fuel production to Destroid manufacture. Destroying these would be a blow to the SDF-1 Project, but not a terrible one. There must be something there. Wait. There is a fuel factory, an experimental one, with, as its power source...
"A Reflex reactor matrix!" Alex shouted the thought outloud.
"What about it?" asked an anxious Roy.
"There is a factory there which is powered by reflex technology! If they blow it up..."
"They'll end up destroying it, and half of Macross City with it." Fokker finished grimly. Alex could almost hear the wheels turning rapidly inside his friends head. He finally spoke again.
"All right. Lets switch to turbo mode. That way we'll catch them before they reach striking distance." It was a sound plan, but it had one problem. The turbo mode added speed but also drained power from the weapon systems, effectively bringing offensive capabilities to their bare minimum. It was not a pleasant prospect, this five-to-two fight with minimal weapons, and Alex said so.
"I know! At least we can keep up the fight until the damn reinforcements get here." Roy sighed on the comlink. "Anyway we don't have a choice, now, do we?" Without waiting for an answer, Fokker switched to turbo mode and surged ahead, ever faster. Three seconds later, his plane was joined by Alex's. For Roy Fokker was right: there was no choice in this. Not to pilots of the Robotech Defense Forces.
They charged ahead, their speed reaching a level as yet unheard of in any other airplane of the time. That got a reaction from the pilots of the enemy planes. But not a fighting reaction. Instead, they went full thrust towards the factory. I was right, thought Alex, that is their target.
Even with the enemy flooring- if one could say that- the gas pedal with abandon, the two 24Fs rapidly gained on them, finally coming within striking distance of the hostile crafts. Roy was the first to strike, launching a volley of homing missiles to the nearest plane. The pilot of that plane tried to turn and dodge the attack, but it was already too late for him. he took the full blast, disintegrating into a great ball of incandescence. Three planes changed direction to engage them at this. It was obvious they were protecting the lead plane, so it could make its run. If they took the time to tangle with those three, half of Macross City would be blown all the way to tomorrow.
Taking about thirty thousand or so people with it in the deal. It could not be allowed to happen, never!
"Al, go stop the lead hostile! I'll deal with these three jerks!" shouted Roy over the com, obviously having reached the same conclusion. Alex hesitated briefly, torn between the concern he had for his friend and his inescaple duty. It was a hard decision, that needed an harder push to prompt
It was Roy, of course, who did the pushing. "GO! I'll be fine! GO, DAMNIT!!!!" he shouted. Alex wasn't sure Roy would be fine in a three-to-one fight, but he decided that his friend would find some way to make it. Decision made, he switched back to turbo mode and dove between two enemy planes with a show of ability few pilots could duplicate.
The lead hostile had made good time with Alex's hesitation. He had actually reached striking distance. Alex knew with a sinking heart that he would most probably be unable to stop the factory's destruction. Behind him, he heard a great explosion and knew one of the planes had bought it. He fervently hoped it wasn't Roy. Then there was no time to think anymore, as he reached striking distance with the enemy craft.
He didn't dare use any missiles at the extreme range he was, and the 12G Autocannon lacked this ranging power. This left the lasers, which could only be aimed manually. The pilot in front of him seem to know this, as his flight was erratic, designed to keep him off-balance, unable to aim. But there was no choice, he powered the laser imbbeded in the bodice of his plane. A manuel targeting information glowed to existence on the on-board computer screen.
Manual Laser ACTIVE
Power Cells: 56%
Aim percentage: 38%
Great, he had only one good shot, and only a one -on- three chance to hit the bastard. He tried to get closer, see if he could get a larger target. Then the enemy plane launched his first two missiles, right onto the factory. Alex screamed in rage, both at himself for his lack of decisivness and at the enemy for its actions. Using all of his aiming skills, he pressed the manual firing button. The airplane shuddered as a beam of light shot toward the enemy plane.
Was it skill or luck? Alex never could tell for certain. To him, it was probably more the latter than the former. The laser beam scorched the left turbine of the enemy airplane, causing it to explode. To Alex's surprise, the rest of the craft did not go up with it, but spiralled out of control, and crashed unto the sea, just fifty yards off Macross City's port. After a quick glance, Alex forgot about it altogether. He scanned the factory reactor. What the computer told him was as far from his liking as he could make it.
Reactor type 12 G.U.N.F
Power Type: Reflex Reactor
Status: Damaged
Extent of Damage: 43%
Meltdown possibility: 100%
Time remaining: 12 seconds
Retreat Advisable
The asshole had only launched two missiles, but he had made them count. Damn him to hell! The godbedamned factory was going to blow up, taking thousands of people with it! Behind him, the noise died down. The battle over there was over, for the little it meant right now.
Time remaining: 10 seconds
Think damnit! I can't let this happen! Gotta find a way to stop this nightmare. Gotta find it. GOTTA FIND IT! These thoughts whirled throught Lenardais's mind, useless, intangible, riveting him to place. There was no WAY he could stop the explosion, he knew. Then he heard Roy Fokker's voice over the com.
"What are you freakin' doing?!? Get out of there! Its going to go sky high!"
Time remaining: 8 seconds
Sky High. Sky High. SKY HIGH??? Thats IT!!!! He couldn't stop it, that was an established fact. But, by launching all of his missiles in a circling pattern, he could force the explosion upward, so that the residences wouldn't be touched. He had to fire it from his position, right on top of the factory, the nose down. The fact that he would die was buried under the pressure he suffered as he entered the commands.
Time remaining: 3 seconds
It was ready. Alex said his good-byes to the world at large. On the com, Roy shouted something, but by that time, Alex had retreated to the resigned peace of those who are dead, who know it and have accepted it. He fired.
Time remaining: 1 second
The missiles flew in a wide circle, exploding upon impact just as the reactor itself exploded. The force of the circling fireball worked the miracle, and the energy was directed upward. Alex could only wonder at the pure witheness that flooded his vision, knowing that this was what it was to "go out with a Bang!". He braced himself....
Only the whiteness cleared. Blinking, disbelieving the obvious fact that he had survived, the pilot righted his craft and looked around.
And found himself, quite simply, into the middle of a warzone.
A warzone, he realized in horror, that was the shattered remains of Macross City
***********************************************************************
